"I can't believe we're doing this," Bill whispered, adjusting his fake mustache in the rearview mirror. "It's a six-year-old's birthday party." "That's exactly why it's perfect," Molly replied, checking her clipboard with exaggerated professionalism. "Rich parents, distracted guests, and a mountain of expensive presents just sitting there." "But they're kids' presents. What are we gonna do with a bunch of Legos and stuffed unicorns?" "You'd be surprised what people put in those wrapped boxes nowadays. Tommy Martinez got a PlayStation 5 for his fourth birthday last month. His parents posted it all over Instagram." Bill shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "How do you even know that?" "Research, Bill. That's why I'm the brains, and you're the guy who dresses up as a clown." "Wait, what? You said I was going to be the magician!" "Change of plans. The real magician canceled, but they already have a backup. They need a clown." "I hate clowns," Bill groaned, slumping against the steering wheel. "They give me the creeps." "You're going to be one in about ten minutes, so get over it. Besides, your nose is already kind of red and bulbous naturally." "Hey!" "Just stating facts. Now, remember the plan. You distract the kids with your... whatever clown stuff you can think of. I'll pose as the party planner and slowly move the presents to our van around back." "What if someone asks me to make balloon animals?" "Can't you?" "No! I can barely tie my shoes some days!" Molly rolled her eyes. "Just tell them you're a modern clown who doesn't believe in conforming to balloon animal stereotypes. These are Beverly Hills kids - they'll probably respect you more for it." "And what if the real party planner shows up?" "She won't. She's currently stuck in traffic on the 405. I may or may not have called in a fake accident report." Bill stared at her. "That's actually pretty clever." "Again, that's why I'm the brains. Now put on your red nose and rainbow wig. We've got five minutes until showtime." "I still think this is wrong," Bill muttered, reaching for the costume bag. "We're literally stealing from children." "No, we're stealing from entitled parents who spend thousands on parties their kids won't even remember. Think of us as modern-day Robin Hoods." "Robin Hood gave to the poor. We're giving to our landlord." "Same difference. That man is definitely poor in spirit. Now come on, Bozo, it's time to make some kids laugh while I commit grand larceny." "Fine," Bill sighed, applying the white face paint. "But if any kid cries, I'm out." "Deal. And Bill?" "Yeah?" "Try to smile. You're supposed to be a clown, not a funeral director." "This is my happy face." "God help us all," Molly muttered, grabbing her clipboard. "Let's go steal from some kindergarteners."